Star Wars '78

(Yikes! I wrote this back in August, but held it back as I had plans for some follow-up posts. Those plans have changed for... reasons that I'll go into in a few weeks.)

In the sort of weird coincidence that makes humans believe in something that surrounds us, penetrates us, and binds the galaxy together, Star Wars gaming popped into my head from two different directions over the past couple of weeks. First, Stuart started running a short Star Wars D6 game; I haven't played it since around 1995 and it's been great fun getting back into it. A couple of days later, Jez Gordon asked, on the medias social:

"If you were gonna play in a Star Wars D6 campaign what would be your favorite era and why?"

To which I replied:

"Rebellion(ish), after SW but before ESB, in that fertile space where there was no more Star Wars, and anything goes.

(Basically, Marvel Star Wars.)"

This coincidence has got me thinking about an idea I've had for a while, which is the sort of Star Wars game I would run, and that game is Star Wars '78.

The three basic principles are this:

• Only Star Wars itself -- the first film, and maybe its adaptations -- is canon.
• Anything that came after can be used for inspiration, but isn't to be considered a "fact".
• Anything I invent/borrow/steal cannot contradict Star Wars, but I can happily negate anything else.

It's more or less the Star Wars universe as of 1978, with the first film -- not even "Episode IV" at this point -- the only thing out there. This is the environment in which the original Marvel comics were released, and in which Splinter of the Mind's Eye was written. Wild, vague, and in flux.

Let's see what happens...

Live long and prosper!

M People

I was noodling around with a project yesterday and realised that a lot of my favourite D&D-type monsters begin with the letter "M". So in the spirit of those old "make a campaign from only ten monsters" or "only use the Fiend Folio" posts of yore, let's see what's brought to us today by the letter "M"!

We will be using the AD&D2 Monstrous Manual, of course, for it is the best of the D&D monster books that isn't the Fiend Folio. Onward!

Mammal. An inauspicious start, but we have Ape, Carnivorous and Gorilla in there, so there's some pulpy potential.

Manscorpion. Not bad. Monstrous creepy hybrid bastards. Intelligent enough to have a society, and with manscorpion wizards! Nice and pulpy. I'd perhaps give them a tendency towards aggressive mansplaining and other forms of misogyny, just for the pun.

Not from the Monstrous Manual, obviously, but we must always make time for Iain McCaig!

Manticore. These have long been a favourite monster of mine. Lion-bat-scorpion-man monstrosities that are really angry, probably because they are lion-bat-scorpion-man monstrosities. Glorious.

Medusa. Another classic and another favourite. Can't go wrong with snake haired women with stone gaze powers. In the AD&D2 MM we also get the male version, the maedar, who are aggressively dull even by AD&D2 standards, and I will probably ignore them.

Merman. Fine, I suppose. I would probably blur them into sirens and play up elements of capricious horror, maybe even bring in some Deep One aspects.

Mimic. Great. Everyone loves mimics. Of course, I would have them be able to disguise themselves as anything, including people, probably. Imagine if the village blacksmith splits down the middle into a giant mouth and tries to eat you. Imagine!

Mind Flayer. Classic D&D enemies, but I've never much liked them, despite my Cthulhoid proclivities. Maybe I'd include one as a Big Bad type villain, squatting in a dungeon somewhere.

Minotaur. Another classic, literally. I've always liked minotaurs as a player-character option, so I'd include that too.

Mist, Crimson Death. I'm not a big fan of malevolent weather, but perhaps you could make this the centrepiece of an adventure and get away with only including one of them.

Mist, Vampiric. See above. Maybe the crimson death has these as its henchmen. Henchmists.

Mongrelman. Great! Horrific and sad. Monstrous but not necessarily monsters. They also fit into that Low Hit Dice Humanoid niche that every campaign needs. I love these guys.

Morkoth. Weird undersea hybrid thing with a very specific environmental effect, I wouldn't imagine lots of these in an M Campaign, but like the crimson death and mind flayer I could see them as the focal point of a one-off adventure. I'd probably put them into some sort of uneasy alliance with the mermen too.

Mould. Terrifying to me in real life because of a severe allergy, somewhat boring in game terms. They feel like a Gotcha! monster from the old days and if I drop anything it'll be these.

Mould Men. Fine, but we've got a similar and more visually interesting monster coming up, so I'd probably quietly fold these into them and hope no one notices.

Muckdweller. I would probably never use these in a standard campaign, as there are too many other Low Hit Dice Humanoids that would get used instead, but limiting myself to M-monsters gives them a way in and you know, I quite like them. They are Lawful Evil but I'd still put them into a sort of cute little guy role like a sort of amphibious Moogle, just a cute little guy with a burning hatred of land-dwellers.

Mudman. Great visual, boring monster. Another one that I'd probably use as the central idea in an adventure, rather than a common creature. Perhaps there would be some quest to return a mudman to human(oid) form, or at least find out where it came from and what created it.

Mummy. Yes, absolutely. Grade A superstar monsters.

Myconid. Mushroom people make for a great visual, and they are different and weird enough to feel alien, despite their intelligence and society. Like Groot but even stranger. I love them.

---

There's a desert or wilderness theme emerging with some of these monsters, with a bit of mythic Greece in there, and quite a few aquatic, or at least damp, creatures. A coastal desert perhaps, or a series or barren, hostile islands, with a swampy jungle area and some damp caves too. The number of hybrids suggest some sort of curse or experiments or cursed experiments, and I quite like the idea of a blasted "hot zone" that is home to the mists and rumoured to be full of treasure, Roadside Picnic style.

(Maybe the Zone produced the mutant hybrids?)

You've probably got the mind flayer, morkoth, and at least one mummy as "villains", maybe the crimson death and medusa too. Factions include the manscorpions, mermen, mongrelmen, muckdwellers, and the myconids; maybe there are enough manticores and medusas to form groups, maybe not. I like the idea of apes as a faction, although that's perhaps stretching the rules of the exercise a bit.

In terms of player-character options, although "Man" is technically there as an option, we are listed under "Human" in the MM, so I think I would limit players to the intelligent species above. And maybe the apes too. For fun.

Your turn. Pick a letter -- the first letter of your name, or roll a d26 if you have one -- and create a campaign from the monsters beginning with that latter. If you want.

Tanky Tuesday

Here's an idea I don't have time to explore at the moment, but popped into my head at lunch time and probably should be written down somewhere.

Bog standard fantasy business, except:

• The aftermath of a war that has left the world an irradiated-but-magical mess.
• Everyone bangs around in tanks, because tanks provide the best mobility and protection from the environment.
• Dwarf tanks are big chonky things that move very slowly but are almost invulnerable.
• Orc tanks are like dwarf tanks but are stuck together with spit and hope, and randomly explode.
• Elf tanks are speedy and graceful and are more like sports cars than combat vehicles.
• Undead tanks are ramshackle shells of destroyed vehicles, hanging together through willpower and hatred of the living.
• Ghost tanks are actual ghosts of tanks, all glowy and incorporeal.
• Chaos tanks are not tanks at all, but horrible wasteland mutants as big as a tank and just as tough.
• Players are tank crews exploring the wasteland, looking for supplies, survivors, and loot.
• Lots of random tables to generate the wasteland, and all the horrible things that can happen.
• Lots of building and modification options for tanks.
• "Dungeons" are the remains of huge battle fortresses, some traditional buildings, some gigantic super-tanks; some of the latter may still be rolling around.

It's Dark Sun meets Iron Kingdoms, except with tanks instead of robots. Or Spelljammer, on the ground, with tanks. Or a Tolkienesque Mutant Year Zero with tanks. Or Gorkamorka taken to its (il)logical extreme. Maybe it's a role-playing game, maybe it's a wargame, maybe it's both.

Inspirational viewing:

Being the Bad Guy (But Only If There's Profit to Be Made)

Bear with me, this does come together. Sort of.

Thought one. I like role-playing game mechanics that give players things to do that aren't "my character does this". I'm thinking of things like the winter phase in The One Ring or Pendragon, where we see what happens between adventures, or the domain management rules in D&D, or the way the player-characters' survivor community in Mutant: Year Zero works. This is stuff that affects the game world and the characters but isn't about playing the characters themselves.

Thought two. In cyberpunk games the setup tends to be player-characters versus the evil corporations. I can see why; the source fiction supports it, faceless corporations make good villains, as the real world shows us -- ooh, politics! -- and it's a fertile ground for adventure and conflict. What you don't tend to see is players as corporations. I'm sure there's a Shadowrun sourcebook for playing as a corporation, because there's a Shadowrun sourcebook for everything, but otherwise the only instances I can think of are the card game Netrunner, which puts one player in the role of the corporation, and the computer game Syndicate, in which the player takes the part of the COO of struggling Eurocorp, in a setting in which corporate disputes are resolved with minguns and rocket launchers.

You can see where I'm going with this. How about, instead of the usual cyberpunk setup, or even placing the player-characters as corporate agents, letting the players be the corporation itself? Let's take Syndicate as the basic structure, with the players taking control of a minor corporation's business affairs. We could split the gameplay into two main phases.

The first would be a "boardroom" -- for lack of a better word -- phase in which projects and research are funded, intelligence on rival organisations is gathered, and shareholders can demand certain actions. We could probably cannibalise Mutant: Year Zero's ark mechanics for this.

The second part of the game -- which I will call the "street" phase -- would be more traditional, with corporate agents -- the player-characters -- going out into the neon-drenched city to disrupt the schemes of other corporations by recruiting their employees, stealing their plans, and eliminating their agents. Perhaps there could be some sort of resource mechanic that puts a limit on the mission; once the situation on the ground becomes unprofitable the team is ordered to pull out, unless the players can convince the board to extend funding. Maybe that's too spreadsheety.


The end goal would be up to the players, but becoming the pre-eminent corporation is the obvious one. I wouldn't want to delve too much into the business side of things; the idea is to provide some background and structure for the adventures, not to spend half of every session going through an accurate simulation of corporate economics.

If your group isn't into cyberpunk -- I suspect at least one member of mine wouldn't go anywhere near this in that genre -- then the same kind of structure could be applied with ease to something like Eberron and its dragonmarked houses, or a colonial setting, whether it's the East India Company or the Eastern Galactic Arm Company.

Would anyone play this? The fact that Hostile Takeover: The Faceless Corporation RPG doesn't already exist suggests not, but I think it could be fun.

Enter the Matrix

I was going to post a review of the new Delta Green, in response to a reader request, but that will now happen in a few days because I've been distracted by something.

Over at the Tower of Zenopus, Blacksteel has been struggling with erratic game attendance, with players dropping in and out all over the place, and campaigns sputtering to a halt. I'm sure this isn't anything new and happens to all gaming groups at some point, but what I did find interesting was Blacksteel's solution.

You can go over and have a look, but I'll summarise. How it works is you put together a matrix of games and players, like so:

Players Present	We Play
Alice, Bob, Charlie	Shadowrun
Alice, Charlie	Call of Cthulhu
Alice, Bob	Feng Shui
Bob, Charlie	RuneQuest

The idea is that ongoing campaigns remain viable because the players most interested in that game will be there for that game; you shouldn't get games that conk out through a lack of interest.

On the other hand, what you've got here, more or less, is multiple campaigns running at once; that could be a problem if your game requires a lot of preparation, but it's alleviated somewhat if there are multiple gamemasters in the group. Another potential problem is that it may be difficult to keep track of progress in campaigns; were we hunting the slavers in Shadowrun or RuneQuest? Good notes and recaps would be more important than ever.

All that said, I like the idea. Although it is disruptive in the sense that you could be playing Shadowrun for two weeks, then Feng Shui for one, then Shadowrun again for a week, then RuneQuest, it's less disruptive in the sense that you won't get people dropping in and out of the campaign.

I don't think there's anything wrong with a West Marches style drop in and drop out game -- and I'd love to play in one some time -- but I do think it lends itself to more broad and shallow style play; with this sort of approach you can start to go into depth with plots and backgrounds and non-player-characters and tie them into the player-characters, because you know the players will be around to engage with them.

The other big advantage is that it offers up a bit of variety. You're not playing one game for big monolithic chunks of time, but rather playing lots of different things; it lets you try new games as they come out, and if they prove popular, perhaps put them into the regular rotation. My original gaming group sort of ran along these lines -- although it wasn't planned -- and so I played a lot of different games in my youth; I do miss that variety sometimes.

My current group is for the most part quite stable in terms of attendance and participation, and it's not a big group, so I don't know if this would work for us. We tend to play one or two hefty campaigns a year, with some shorter games in between; although there are regular absences they tend to be far apart enough that it probably wouldn't be practical to run alternate campaign or campaigns in those gaps. Instead, we tend to break out our ever expanding board game collections.

Even so, there's something about this model that I cannot help but find compelling. Perhaps there is a way to make it work with my group. We'll see.

Right! Delta Green next!

Enter Six Hard Nailed Mercenaries for Hire

I shouldn't be even thinking about this right now. In a couple of weeks, we'll be restarting our Dracula Dossier campaign, and after that I'm supposed to be running Phoenix: Dawn Command, and at some point I should run Genlab Alpha since I backed the Kickstarter, and I've got a Lamentations of the Flame Princess adventure part-written that seems to be sprawling out of control, and...

Anyway.

I was up in That London a couple of weeks ago to visit friends and we tried to play the remastered Chaos Engine, except Steam was being silly and the controllers went wonky and made an already difficult game even more tricky and...

Anyway.

The Chaos Engine is ace, a Gauntletish two-player shoot-em-up with a steampunk aesthetic before steampunk was a thing, and as we played we wondered why no one had done anything with it. James suggested a film adaptation, but I thought it would make for a good campaign setting. Have a look:




I imagine that a Chaos Engine campaign would be similar to Pool of Radiance, Big Rubble for RuneQuest, or Games Workshop's much-missed Mordheim, with a dash of Escape From New York and a healthy smearing of Roadside Picnic. Baron Fortesque's experiment has led to London being evacuated -- with the government moved to Birmingham or Oxford or something -- and left as an urban waste packed full of monsters and weird science gone wrong. Her Majesty's armed forces have established a somewhat secure perimeter around the city and there is much adventure to be had in nipping across the border into the Chaos Zone and exploring the former capital.

The abandonment of London would probably be swift, with much left behind, so adventurers could be employed to recover an aristocrat's belongings from his Mayfair residence, now occupied by psychotic mutant dinosaurs. Perhaps they hear about a bank vault that was never emptied during the evacuation, and must race to crack open the vault before other treasure hunters -- or worse -- get there.

People would have been left behind too, so the player-characters could be asked to enter London to find a missing family member, or at least discover if they still live. Perhaps Uncle Alf is still alive, but has been transformed into a mindless brute; is there a way to reverse his mutation? What of Baron Fortesque? Many would be interested in his rescue, or indeed capture.

The Chaos Engine is trying to extend its area of influence by installing "nodes" that act as relays for whatever weird energies the Engine is producing, transforming the area and mutating its inhabitants; in a more military-themed adventure, the player-characters could be tasked to find and destroy these devices in order to push back the Engine's effect, but perhaps there are other rogue scientists who would pay for the technology's covert recovery.

Baron Fortesque's mansion would be the tentpole dungeon of the campaign, a manor house twisted by the Engine's power into a strange multidimensional labyrinth, at its heart the Chaos Engine itself, a huge boss monster made of brass and steam that squirts out homicidal robots and time-tossed energy beings.

(The Engine has one further secret that those who completed the original game will know, but I won't spoil it here.)

I'm not sure what system I would use to run The Chaos Engine. A mashup of the Doctor Who and Primeval rpgs could work, but given the pulpy adventure feel Savage Worlds looks like the best fit; there's even a Victorian era monster hunting sourcebook available in Rippers. There's some work to be done; adventures need to be written and the monsters require an overhaul, as in the original game they just run around and shoot, and differ only in visual design and how many bullets they absorb.

Getting The Chaos Engine ready to run would not be a great deal of work but it would be a significant amount, and as I mentioned above I have loads of other projects on the go. That said, there's something compelling about the idea, compelling enough that it buzzed around in my head for days and prompted this post, so perhaps I will return to the strange alternate 1893 in a future brainsplurge.